


Big Boy Has a Tasty Day™

by Jesse



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Gore, Guro, M/M, and he eats some of it??, and then winds up eating some of his insides, basically tarn rips off pharma's plating, cuz i derailed really hard from my original plot but ended up not caring, this is really bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13877262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jesse/pseuds/Jesse
Summary: Gore without plot. Tarn basically just goes ham on Pharma's plating and winds up having a snack in the end.





	Big Boy Has a Tasty Day™

**Author's Note:**

> You can thank Kiba for the title.

If Cybertronians had to breathe, Pharma would be fairly hyperventilating. His jets were overclocking themselves as his body rhythmically arced on the medical berth, wrists and ankles locked down. If it weren’t for the platinum syringe jammed into his t-cog, he might just fuck the medbay in half and get himself out in his alt mode, but Tarn wasn’t that kind. He never was.

“Struggling will get you nowhere,” Tarn purred, and with every word he spoke, Pharma could feel his very spark bubbling and churning deep inside its casing, feeling like it might explode. It sent thick, hot streams of raw pain throughout his entire body, crippling his systems, feeling like it was going to burn his optics and melt them into his very skull. Tarn was _playing_ with him, and Pharma wished that he’d just do whatever it was that he wanted so he’d leave. Even just being toyed with was incredibly painful, and the medic wasn’t sure if he trusted himself enough to endure whatever it was that Tarn had in mind.

Shaking his head in what could only have been sick amusement, Tarn walked around the table, his fingers idly running over the neat setup of medical tools that Pharma had laid out earlier. The medic watched in silence as Tarn took his sweet time, and Pharma could feel his spark slowly starting to settle again. He wasn’t a stranger to having medical tools on his body; there wasn’t any danger of Tarn doing anything that hadn’t already been done to him before.

Watching Tarn's digits hover near the microtorch was almost a relief; Pharma had grown so accustomed to toasting his fingers with those that he was almost immune to the pain that they brought.

Still, the first warning sign was that Tarn pulled up a chair to sit next to the slab, telling Pharma that he planned to be there for a minute. It was almost comical to watch a bot as massive as Tarn trying to sit on the respectively small chair, but he made it work somehow. If he survived the ordeal, Pharma planned to tell everyone about it, including making the chair out to be much smaller so that everyone would have more of a reason to laugh at such a stupid mental image.

Ah, he picked the laser scalpel. Pharma had felt that many a time. It shouldn’t be too bad.. right? He locked his dentae together as Tarn hunkered down near his left arm, slowly positioning the scalpel above Pharma’s upturned elbow joint. The medic could hear the tool being activated, and braced himself for the pain to follow. It never came. Peering one optic down, he met Tarn’s looking directly back at him, still holding the scalpel in one of his massive servos, and Pharma knew that he was grinning behind that mask of his.

“Well? Get on with it, why don’t you?” Pharma quipped, not in the mood for being toyed with any longer than he had to be.

“It’s much more fun to watch you squirm,” Tarn hummed softly, and Pharma could feel his spark rippling violently with each syllable touched. He hated it. Hated it, hated it, hated it.

The feeling of the scalpel’s laser point touching down on his inner elbow joint was almost like a blessing, a relief from the pain within his spark casing. Tarn’s voice be damned. He could feel the scalpel’s tip carving a painfully-neat circle atop the joint, wondering what on earth Tarn could be planning to do with such a nonsensical cut. Tarn was very precise; even though Pharma couldn’t see his work, he could feel the lack of jagged edges and misguided pulls. Tarn had obviously done this before, or at least something like it.

The hot disc of metal was easily popped out of his joint once Tarn was finished searing it off, leaving a perfect hole in his arm for Tarn to do whatever he pleased. Despite only being able to form a few loose ideas of what the DJD leader might be planning, there was no way that Pharma was prepared to feel Tarn insert his finger inside the hole itself, hooking his fingertip underneath the metal plating and giving just a slight tug. The medic felt his body arch off the table involuntarily as Tarn’s finger began slowly lifting upwards, peeling his own plating from his body, hearing the metallic screeching in his audials far louder than he could hear himself stifling his miserable groaning. Tarn merely chuckled in response to Pharma’s reactions, and now pinched the end of curled living metal between his thumb and forefinger, getting a better grip on it before continuing his previous line of action. Pharma’s fingers clenched tightly against the smooth surface of the table, his legs shaking as Tarn nonchalantly peeled what was essentially his skin right from his arm. He could feel the sensitive wiring and intricate cables beneath the plating now exposed to the cool air of the medical bay, and felt his spark ache as he heard the piece of metal clang wetly to the floor.

A strange sort of metallic rumbling could be heard now, Pharma spending several seconds trying to figure out where it was coming from before he realised that it was simply from himself, shaking there on the table.

Tarn let out a gentle huff of satisfaction, and began cutting another circle into Pharma’s elbow region, which told the medic that he fully intended to rip off another section of plating.

Pharma began trying to console himself inside his head, reviewing the pain he’d just experienced and how to deal with it this time now that he knew what to prepare himself for. He was a medic; he was trained to improvise, adapt, and overcome. As long as his plates would remain intact, he was confident that he could replace them. If not, he’d have to resort to other measures. Hopefully he wouldn’t -

The feeling of Tarn’s dentae sinking into his arm hadn’t been something that Pharma had anticipated, not by a longshot. The howl that tore from his throat was hoarse and choked, and he could feel Tarn’s upper body shaking gently with silent laughter as his teeth remained clamped down into his plating, and Pharma could only try his best to feverishly prepare himself for Tarn to start ripping off his plating with his dentae, like some sort of wild animal.

Unfortunately, no amount of mental preparation could have helped Pharma build himself up for what he had anticipated; Tarn’s dentae were deeply embedded in his plating, and the medic could feel his own energon spurting from his arm as Tarn wrenched away the metal from his limb, snapping his neck back and taking Pharma’s proverbial skin with it. Immediately he could feel energon pooling underneath his body as he laid there on the table, his entire left arm shaking from pure shock, his prized fingers snapping in and out of a curled position completely out of his control. He didn’t like that.

Cracking open one optic, he glanced over at Tarn, only to feel a wave of revulsion sweep across his frame as he watched the DJD leader slowly and deliberately feed the energon-soaked plating into his mouth. He chewed up every single bit of metal, swallowing it all, and leaving absolutely nothing but Pharma’s energon staining his mouth and fingers. The medic looked on in horror as Tarn licked his digits, noting that his glossa was torn up from having eaten pure living metal, but Tarn didn’t seem to care. It was all for show. He’s always about putting on some sort of flamboyant act, Pharma told himself. It didn’t bring him much comfort.

“Hmm.. I wonder what these do..” Tarn crooned, ignoring Pharma’s gasping at the pain his words brought. His overly-large fingers began picking around at the neat array of cables and wiring within Pharma’s arm, now exposed to the outside world. Pharma grit his dentae together as he felt Tarn’s fingertip poke around, sliding between his intricate veins and pricking places where fingers didn’t belong. A short scream forced his dentae to unclamp themselves as Tarn’s fingertip hooked around a single cable and sharply tugged upward, the smooth conduit snapping almost instantly. The medic could now feel even more energon pooling inside his arm’s cavity, unable to drain due to the plating on the underside remaining intact, effectively making his arm into a trough that desperately needed to stay dry. Tarn snapped a small clump of thin wires simply by rubbing them between two fingers, savoring Pharma’s anguished groaning.

Energon was now spilling out of his arm at a rather alarming rate, and Pharma caught himself wondering if he would die from bleeding out before he’d die from whatever else Tarn had planned for him. His body twitched and quivered as Tarn began slowly extracting his fingers one by one, pinching them off at each individual knuckle and pulling them off segment by segment. Every single piece, Tarn would pop into his mouth like candy, Pharma noting Tarn’s own energon spilling from his lips as he chewed, no doubt due to his glossa being fairly shredded at this point. He was insane. Pharma was also convinced that Tarn was simply going off of his reactions alone at this point, and the way that his legs were uncontrollably jerking within the confines of his bindings were undoubtedly fueling Tarn only more and more.

It didn’t take Tarn long to remove all five of Pharma’s fingers, leaving him with just his palm as a sorry memento, feeling every relay that his digits had once connected to spurting energon like tiny faucets. He almost couldn’t even feel Tarn using the laser scalpel again, taking advantage of its white-hot flat side and using it to crudely cauterize the exit points of where his fingers had once been. Painful, almost tearful groans hissed past Pharma’s lips as Tarn worked, almost wishing he could have bled out instead; his was horrendous. But he let Tarn finish, not like he had a choice. The DJD leader also took a moment to sear off the ends of the severed cable in his arm, as well as the torn segments in his arm that were still leaking energon, effectively patching him up, and stopping his bleeding. It wasn’t like Pharma was going to thank him for it.

Humming to himself, Tarn wheeled the chair over a little bit, moving down to Pharma’s left leg. The medic shuttered his optics, trying to gain some semblance of peace within his spark to prepare himself for whatever it was Tarn had planned next, even though he knew it wouldn’t do him that much good in the long run.

He didn’t even use the scalpel this time. Tarn simply hooked a fingertip under the tight plating of the medic’s knee, forcing its way in while bending metal and snapping a few rivets in the process. Pharma stiffened his body to accommodate the pain, his optic shutters squeezed as tightly shut as they possibly could.

The sound of his own metal screeching as it was pried from his body rang in his audials for longer than he wanted, and Pharma did his best to keep his tanks from purging as Tarn roughly yanked the strip of plating from its place. This time, Tarn didn’t enjoy his snack; he simply crumpled the dripping plating in his fist and let it fall to the floor. The medic could feel his own energon all but gushing out of the wound Tarn had just made, hearing it spill onto the floor under the table and threatening to make his head swim. Tarn simply seared his edges with the laser again, stopping the bleeding, and leaving the pain where he wanted it. The cold air of the medical bay began lightly stiffening the cables and wiring inside his exposed leg, and Pharma could feel it rattling from shock against the tabletop. It seemed to amuse Tarn. The tank’s large digits eagerly dipped into the cavity he’d just helped create, fingertips roughly bumping against and scraping against delicate circuitry that should never be touched by anything other than medical tools held by a professional. Pharma’s dentae sank into his lip plates, wishing he could activate his jets to alleviate some of the pressure building up inside his body, but he couldn’t even do that. His t-cog was rendered completely still, and it ached as it pulsed gently with the syringe stuck inside.

Tarn seemed to grow impatient as his fingers kept on poking and prodding, eventually resigning to scooping up clusters of cables between his digit segments and pulled them upwards until they would snap in half, one by one. It had Pharma’s entire frame shaking against the tabletop, his head jerking from side to side as energon began oozing from underneath his dentae as they cut into his lip plates. Tarn continued his work, finding more wiring to pull and snap, and once his fingers couldn’t reach any more, he didn’t waste time pulling at the plating that covered the front of Pharma’s thigh. Starting at the knee, the DJD leader began peeling the smooth plating upward, not stopping until it met his hip connectors, and tearing it roughly off to the side. Lubricant began leaking from Pharma’s optics against his will, oozing out from underneath his shutters and spilling down his cheeks while Tarn laughed. The laser crudely cauterized his wounds, and Tarn began amusing himself again by playing around with more of Pharma’s relays. This time, with easier access to his wiring, the tank found it a lot more fun to hold a single cable between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing and squeezing it until it burst from either friction or pressure. Pharma’s own energon was all but pooled underneath his frame by now, soaking into his plating, and being able to hear it drip constantly off the table onto the floor. The fact that it was splashing when it fell told the medic that there was more on the floor than he realised, and without being able to properly run a diagnostic on himself, Pharma didn’t really know how much energon he’d lost at this point. That worried him. He could fairly well die from bleedout before he died from something that Tarn could actively do to him. A passive death. Not acceptable.

“No need to cry, doctor,” Tarn droned at him, “this will all be over soon.”

Pharma felt his spark casing crack as the last word was spoken, and he couldn’t stop his tanks at that point. Half-digested medical-grade spilled from his bleeding lips down his chin and onto his upper body, where it stickily dripped down to join the purple mess beneath his frame. Tarn didn’t even make a point of noticing, only electing to snap another few cables, but Pharma could sense that he was growing bored of this. The glint in Tarn’s uncovered optics only confirmed it as their eyes locked for a split second.

Tarn stood up from the chair slowly, taking his time, his optics gently sweeping over the jet’s body, as if surveying his handiwork. Hoisting a knee up, Tarn press it against the tabletop, boosting himself up to join Pharma, the table fairly groaning under their combined weight. Tarn’s massive frame hovered over the medic’s, his left hand reaching up to touch Pharma’s face. His fingers swept away the sticky mess of blue vomit, his thumb slipping inside the medic’s mouth a moment after. Pharma’s first instinct was to bite down, but both common sense and raw fear held him back, and Tarn seemed to sense it. Mouth tugging into the most evil grin ever seen on Cybertron, Tarn withdrew his thumb, only to lean down and very gently press his lip plates against Pharma’s. The jet lay there fairly paralyzed with fear and pain, a bit of shock mixed in, and he made no reaction to Tarn’s advance. dentae firmly yet lovingly bit down on Pharma’s mangled plating before releasing, Tarn’s shredded glossa now being forced inside the medic’s mouth, dripping energon onto his bile-coated tongue, dribbling towards the back of Pharma’s throat. Tarn’s lip plates curled into a second smile as Pharma swallowed the few drips of energon, only then pulling back and severing their kiss together.

The sound of glass shattering rang in Pharma’s audials before he could even feel the pain of Tarn’s servo having smashed through his cockpit hood. Amber-coloured glass fanned outward in a sharp explosion before falling on the floor, clinking wetly as it joined his congealing energon. The medic’s mouth hung open in a silent cry as his systems tried to process what had just happened, body shaking as his abdomen repeatedly heaved without him wanting it to.

Now with the glass out of the way, Tarn took the opportunity to dig his fingers underneath the edges of Pharma’s lower torso plates, easily lifting them upwards and tearing them off his body. This time, Pharma couldn’t stifle his screams, and let them echo loudly against the walls of the medical bay as Tarn did as he pleased. The plates clanged dully on the floor after Tarn dropped them, and he didn’t even both to sear the bleeding relays off this time. Pharma shuddered violently as energon spilled into his exposed abdomen, soaking his circuits and making everything cold once it settled. Tarn edged downward a little bit, his eyes shining evilly in the bluish light, and plunged his head downwards to the gaping space in Pharma’s plating that he just created.

Pharma’s tanks purged themselves a second time as he felt Tarn’s dentae sink into his exposed innards, only to snap his neck upwards and tear a mess of cables and wiring with it. Optics snapped wide open in both pain and shock, Pharma could only watch in horror as Tarn’s shredded glossa pulled the severed mess into his mouth, chewing it with great fervor before swallowing. It may not have been the end of the world if that had been the only incident, but the moment Tarn’s head dipped back down, Pharma knew it was over. The tank’s teeth easily took another mouthful, chewing messily and dripping their shared energon back into the gaping wounds that Tarn was creating.

There was little to no sign from Tarn that he planned on stopping, merely continuing to heartily dig into Pharma’s inner systems like he’d confused it for his evening intake. The pain had overwhelmed Pharma’s receptors to the point where he hardly even realised that Tarn had ripped off the plating on his right thigh to mirror his left, and was devouring what was inside there as well. The medic’s optics had since then screwed themselves shut, not wanting to have to watch where Tarn was going to eat from next, not wanting to have to brace himself for that pain in any particular place. It never worked.

Only when he felt warm energon dripping onto his face plates did Pharma reluctantly reactivate his optics, only to see Tarn’s face right above his own. The DJD leader’s mouth, cheeks, and everything from his chin down to his chest was stained with energon, and it was dripping from his chin onto Pharma’s face.

“You’ve been so delicious, I almost couldn’t stop myself,” Tarn murmured, his thumb wiping a splatter of energon from Pharma’s cheek. The medic could feel the crack in his spark casing becoming wider from Tarn’s words, his spark throbbing mercilessly in his chest. “It’s almost a shame that I do have to stop sooner or later, but I’ll think fondly of our time together.”

Pharma cried out loud as he could feel his spark almost seeping through the crack in his casing, Tarn now continuing to mercilessly prattle on about how slippery his cables were, how delightfully crunchy his circuits had been.

This was it. This is how he died.

His cries ceased the moment he felt one more physical movement from Tarn, the tank’s teeth sinking into both sides of his cheek plates - and tearing his entire mouth off. Pharma stared soundlessly as he watched Tarn chew up the ragged mess of his lip and cheek plates, only to watch him happily hop off the table and move out of view.

The door closed.

Tarn was gone.


End file.
